


Rinse out the Red and Dead

by scribblyblurbbird



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Blood, Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, Light Angst, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, M/M, Protective Arthur, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblyblurbbird/pseuds/scribblyblurbbird
Summary: You swear you can hear the storm brewing in his thoughts, his suspended hands hold a new strain, but not an unfamiliar one. Reluctantly you part from the kiss, breathing each other in for a spell, your lips brushing against his like a summer evening's breeze. Your gaze offers a soothing comfort to the rugged outlaw before you, wordlessly telling him the danger had passed for the both of you—telling him it’s okay.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Reader, Arthur Morgan/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Rinse out the Red and Dead

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello!! This is my first ever fic for Red Dead Redemption so I apologize if it's lacking anything! Thank you for taking the time to read this! It's very much appreciated!

The ghost of a gunshot lingers in the open air. It’s done.

He turns. Within the blink of an eye, gone is his commanding presence and desire to inflict suffering. You reach your hand to his face, cradling his cheek in your palm

Gingerly, he leans into it, giving himself in wholly to your touch. His burning gold-sea green eyes melt into a calm sunset upon the ocean once again, his fury falling away by just your presence alone. You watch in muted, mild amusement as his eyes flutter, fighting the urge to close, wanting to stay on you instead. But his damaged soul be damned—he loves your touch, wishing he could stay in your reach forever more. Despite the slowing of his racing heart as he drowns in the bliss that is you, a part of himself snaps, telling him he should be comforting you, not the other way around. His voice like a distant rumble of thunder; exuding power with retained depth, but gentle. “Don’t you worry, darlin’. They can’t hurt you no more.” Arthur’s eyes flicker to yours, his cheeks slightly coloring; his silent inquiry for your permission. The faint twitch of your lips brings the promise of a smile, easing Arthur’s uncertainties. With steady, conscientious care, he leans down slowly, a shaky breath fanning your lips before he meets them in a tender, bashful kiss.  


His hands reach for you, only to stop, hovering mere centimetres above your hips. You can practically feel the unsure twitch of his fingers; he's aware of the blood on his hands from days gone by, as well as the crimson that freshly stains them now as he kisses you. He knows blood on cloth can be cleaned to the eye, but to him, marking you with blood of another meant so much more. In Arthur’s eyes, seeing you--your body, your clothes--marked with blood meant he was unable to keep you from the reach of the foul sins of the only life he's known.

You swear you can hear the storm brewing in his thoughts, his suspended hands hold a new strain, but not an unfamiliar one. Reluctantly you part from the kiss, breathing each other in for a spell, your lips brushing against his like a summer evening's breeze. Your gaze offers a soothing comfort to the rugged outlaw before you, wordlessly telling him the danger had passed for the both of you—telling him _it’s okay._

You slightly cringe at the tearing of fabric as you rip the somehow unspotted sleeve from the shirt of one of Arthur's unlucky victims. You reach for his hand, eyes flicking to his weary gaze and he knows what you want of him. He turns his hand, palm upwards, fingers curled in a relaxed manner, offering it to you. With delicate movements, you wipe the blood clean, or as clean as you can get, from his large, work-worn hand. You do the same to the other, mindlessly pursing your lips as you check over his hands once more.

Settling on their remarkably cleaner state, you drop the scrap of ruby stained cloth, paying it no mind. Your attention is elsewhere. Shifting your gaze to his face, you watch the faint dusting of a rosy blush grow upon his cheeks as you grasp his hands. You guide them to your hips, feeling his digits barely flex as he settles into the familiar comfort of the feeling of you. You dare not move your gaze, watching as Arthur lifts his brilliant eyes, meeting your own. Another shy request. You answer by stepping closer, pulling the oh so willing man into a warm, loving kiss.

Arthur Morgan may not be a good man according to the outlines of the law, but to you, he's one of the best men you knew. Despite his faults, how many he had killed without thought, all those souls he robbed or beat, he treated you with such care and sincere love.

The twisted vines of corruption ran deep within him, hard to break free from due to years with the same destructive mind he unintentionally formed by the biddings of others. But you... you were not disgusted by the thorns that dug deep in his morals. You never sneered or scolded him harshly. You knew change would be hard for him, but not impossible. You never pushed him or tugged him along. You were Arthur's patient light.

He thanks whatever power exists in this mad world as he holds you close, kissing you deeply. He thanks the unknown guide for bringing you into his life. Arthur used to wake each morning, so sure that that day would be his last. But now, he wakes to each sunrise in your arms, wanting to live longer than just a day more. The two of you know it's going to be hard. But with you by his side, a long dead spark reignites—a spark of hope.  
As the setting sun paints the world around the two of you in hues of red, surrounded by bodies of the freshly dead, Arthur finally feels hope. Hope for redemption.


End file.
